Star Pupil
by BigDestiny
Summary: Kurt needs his dad.  But can anyone help him after what's happened?  Not exactly a one-shot, more a prequel for the big story I'm working on.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I'm guessing that everyone is hoping this is another light-hearted romp like Jailhouse Rock. Sorry to disappoint, but this is a completely new universe and it's dark, people.

Oh, and the usual. Not mine, no profit. I'm sure you've all heard this a million times before.

Star Pupil - by BigDestiny

Burt knew that you weren't supposed to use your cell phone when you were driving, but he couldn't help but be drawn back to the text that Carole had left him fifteen minutes ago. 'Come home. Kurt needs his dad.'

Burt and Finn had gone out for pizza and a game, 'bonding'. Their third evening out since the Hummels and Hudsons had decided to give the blended family thing another go, and Finn was just starting to relax again in Burt's presence. Burt felt a little guilty about that. Although he meant everything he said about using THAT word, Finn had stood up to the boys bullying Kurt, proving Burt's initial impression of Finn had been correct. Which meant that it was Burt's responsibility to get Finn to trust him again.

So Carole wasn't likely to have texted for anything short of an emergency, Burt just didn't know what it could be. Nothing medical, or she'd have had him meet her at the hospital. Unless Kurt had been having trouble with more bullies and didn't want to get checked out. Burt sighed; Kurt was more than capable of taking care of himself. And yet time and again, he just refused to fight back. Understandable, but since Kurt came out Burt wanted a little more assurance that his son would be okay.

He wasn't getting that assurance from the police cars that were currently parked in front of his house.

"Oh my god," Finn breathed. He'd yanked his phone out of his pants in seconds and was texting like only a panicked teenager could. "Come ON, Mom," he snapped at the phone. Unnecessarily, given that they would be back at the house in a couple of seconds.

Finn was out of the car the second it stopped. But, in the time it took for Burt to shut off the engine and follow, Finn had only gotten a few feet before being stopped by the cops standing on the front sidewalk.

"This is a crime scene," One of them told Finn.

Finn was shaking his head, looking completely lost. "No. That isn't a crime scene, I live there."

Burt hurried up beside Finn. "My name's Burt Hummel. That's my house, officer. What's going on?"

Cops were used to giving people bad news, but this one couldn't quite restrain a wince as he said, "Home invasion. I'm afraid your son Kurt was home alone at the time."

"Oh, god," Burt moaned. He could hear Finn whimper a little.

"He's not hurt," The cop hurried to state. "We've taken his statement, and Mrs. Hummel is with him now." Burt and Finn ignored Carole being mistaken for 'Mrs. Hummel', and both sprinted for the door. The cop didn't try to stop them.

Burt's mind was on overdrive. Kurt was here alone? It didn't help at all that the cop had said Kurt hadn't been injured. There were other things that criminals that broke into their house could do to him….

Oh, god.

Finn's mind must have run through the same things that Burt's had, because the second they entered the house, it wasn't his mother that he was calling for. "Kurt? KURT!"

"Finn? Burt?" Carole rushed into the living room, and enveloped both of them in her arms. Her face was tight with restrained emotions, but she was refusing to break down. Burt had always known how strong she was; she'd have to be to raise a kid as awesome as Finn was by herself. But this, knowing that she'd seen what he was still afraid to see, this was showing her mettle all over.

Burt had a fleeting moment where he wanted to tell her how amazing she was, but the thought was swept up into the worry-wind in his head and was quickly torn apart. Just like everything else except for the one overwhelming concern: "Carole, what's going on? Where's Kurt?"

"In the back yard," she told him. "He needed some air."

"Is he okay?" Finn asked. "The cops said-"

"I know," Carole interrupted gently. "Sweetie, Kurt really needs his dad right now. Can you wait here, and come get us if the police need to talk to us?"

It was obvious that this wasn't good enough for Finn, but he nodded. "Yeah, I can do that." He sat down on the couch and tried to look calm. Tried not to look at how wrecked the living room was.

Burt wondered if the boy would ever be calm again. If any of them would.

Carole led the way, hurrying him past the kitchen. In the back of his mind, that seemed odd, but asking would have delayed him seeing Kurt and that just wasn't happening.

The back yard was heavily shaded, breezy, and typically a few degrees colder than the rest of the neighborhood. On a hot summer day that was a relief, but it was usually too cold in the evenings. Burt shivered. But as Kurt came into sight, slouched on the back steps, Burt could see that Kurt didn't seem to be moving at all. That was a bad sign.

Burt sat down next to his son, a look in Kurt's eyes confirmed Burt's guess. Kurt wasn't moving because he WOULDN'T move. The complete control over his emotions (that had only gotten stronger since he'd come out) wouldn't permit it.

Damnit, it was so hard for him to open up to Kurt. When Kurt was like this, it was even harder. "You okay? I mean- They didn't hurt you, right?" It didn't seem like it. Kurt looked his usual put together self. Outfit immaculate, not even a hair out of place. In the back of Burt's mind, this was adding up to something. He wasn't sure if it was shock stopping him from piecing it together, or just reluctance.

"They didn't touch me. I'm fine," Kurt confirmed, which didn't calm Burt at all. Even with Kurt's perfectly conversational tone, Burt could tell Kurt was trying to convince himself of that, rather than his father.

"Did you see who it was?" Burt asked. "Do the police know where they went?"

Carole must not have gone back in the house, because Burt heard her make a small choking noise.

Kurt's face didn't move, a pale, dignified counterpoint to the chaos inside. "Oh, they're in the kitchen." Burt's face must have darkened. He knew that he was about to stand up, when Kurt put out a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it dad," he said in that same scary tone, like he was telling Burt what had happened in Glee that day.

"They're not going anywhere; they're still pretty dead."

It should have been more of a surprise than it was. Is this what he was expecting to hear? If they hadn't hurt his boy, there could only have been one reason why. Burt sat back down and shivered again. From the cold, damnit. He wasn't scared of his son. "Oh."

Carole piped up again. "I talked to the police when they first got here. They know it was self defense."

"Of course it was." Kurt was still so calm; Burt would never guess Kurt even cared. If it weren't for the shattered look in his eyes. Eyes that couldn't look into anyone else's. "I think they were on drugs. They definitely wanted more money that they needed to replace that garbage they were wearing.

"They were going for the high end stuff. Laptops. TV. Me."

Burt's eyes went wide. "What?"

Burt watched as the first crack in Kurt's control spread across his face. "Apparently I would have gone for a lot wherever they were planning on taking me. As flattering as that was, I ran for the kitchen. I thought- Once I had the knives in my hands, I really thought that they'd take off."

Kurt was starting to shake now, and not from the cold. He looked up, almost into Burt's eyes, pleading for… What? "After what happened to Mom, I swore I'd never fight anyone again. But you didn't see them. The way they looked at me. Dad, I was so scared."

And Kurt was still scared. Of his father, for some crazy reason. That was more than enough to snap Burt back into action. "God, Kurt," Burt exclaimed. "No. Don't think for a second that I'm disappointed in you for doing what you had to do."

"They came at me. I didn't have time to even think," Kurt exclaimed, his voice unnaturally tight. "I just acted, the way mom taught me. They saw the knives! I know they saw them! WHY DIDN'T THEY STOP?"

Kurt started sobbing, and Burt pulled him into as tight an embrace as he thought Kurt could stand. Which wasn't quite close enough for Burt's comfort, but any tighter might freak out the boy. If they were on drugs, that would explain a lot. But Burt knew that no amount of explanations would make Kurt feel any better.

Burt knew that he was supposed to just comfort Kurt. Let his son feel what he was feeling. But Burt wanted more than anything to take that guilt away. He pulled Kurt's face up to meet his own, even though it left Kurt's eyes focused on Burt's chin. "It doesn't matter. Kurt, when I saw those cop cars, I thought somebody had beaten you up, and maybe- maybe raped you." Kurt flinched at the directness. "Or maybe you were dead. I thought I'd walk through the front door and find your-" Burt voice choked up, and he needed a second to calm himself.

Kurt raised a tentative hand, compassionately. Burt was disgusted by his own weakness, when his son was so brave. Brave enough to comfort, even now. "No. Kurt, I'm okay. Really. How many of them were there?"

Kurt's brow crinkled, confused. "Four."

"Four is good," Burt insisted. "Kurt I don't care if you have to kill a million men. If it keeps you safe, if it means I don't have to bury you, then I'm glad you did it."

It was the wrong thing to say. Kurt needed to know it, but it was still the wrong thing to say. "Dad, I killed someone," he gasped, horrified. "Four someones. They were people, and it was so easy."

"Believe me, fast don't mean easy," Burt assured his son. "The conversation I had with your grandmother lasted maybe 30 seconds. And that was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

He thought that maybe THAT had helped a little bit. Kurt still looked like his heart was broken, but he did make eye contact again. "I wish Mom was here. No offense to you and Carole, I just-" Kurt broke off, guiltily.

"It's okay, I know what you mean," Burt told him. He felt the same way; although Kasha hadn't ever killed everyone, Burt was pretty sure she had a perspective Kurt needed right now. "Hey, if you want I could see if I could get a hold of old Bebe for you." He didn't want to see that icy bitch, but if it helped Kurt….

Kurt shuddered at the sound of his grandmother's name. "Please don't," he sighed.

Burt thought that just might be progress. "I wish I could take this pain away, son. But you're a good kid, and I think when you're a good kid this is going to hurt no matter what I do."

Kurt wiped his eyes, tried to reestablish his calm front. "Do the police know who they are yet?"

"I don't know," Carole admitted. "I can go ask."

"No, I'll do it." Kurt tried to stand on shaky legs, only to sit down again. "I have to know what their names are. I have to know who I-"

"Sit down." Burt insisted, when Kurt tried to stand again. "We'll find all that out soon enough."

Finn knocked at the back door. From the inside, and it surprised them all that he waited there until Carole opened the door. Finn lingered at the door, uncertain and rattled. "The cops are almost finished. Mom…. They said there's bodies…?"

"It's okay, Finn," Carole told him. "Just let them handle it."

Finn looked over at Kurt, seeming a little calmer just seeing him. "Kurt, buddy. Are you okay?"

It was an indicator of just how much Burt had helped him that Kurt actually seemed to think about his answer, instead of just automatically saying that he was. "Not really. If they don't need me for anything else, I could really use a bath."

Carole smiled sadly at him. "I'll make you a sandwich, if you'd like."

Kurt considered that, as well. "I guess. I don't feel like throwing up right now." He turned back to Burt, making a finally successful attempt at standing. "You'll ask the cops if…."

Burt nodded. "As soon as I know, you'll know."

Finn led Kurt back inside, Carole stopping at the door before she went in. She still looked like she wanted to fall apart, but she had a soft smile on her face. "You're an amazing man, Burt Hummel."

Burt shrugged. Knowing there was nothing more he could do, and hating it. "Can you get Kurt settled? I'll be in in a second."

Carole nodded and went back inside.

Burt looked up at the stars, remembering doing this with Kasha all those years ago. He'd meant what he'd said about being grateful. Kurt's mother may have taken too many risks with herself (that had come back to bite the surviving Hummels), she hadn't left anything to chance with their son. Kurt was in for a long period of self doubt and pain, but thanks to Kasha he was still alive.

They could deal with anything they had to as long as they still had that. At least Burt hoped that it would be enough.


	2. Chapter 2

By popular demand, I'm adding another couple of chapters before I get to the main event. This story is not over by a long shot, and on further reflection, what happens here probably isn't dealt with much in the next story. Thanks so much for everyone's reviews.

Chapter Two

The scariest thing about the next morning was that everything seemed so normal.

The bodies had been hauled out. The police had finished their investigation (there were to be no charges, thank god) and likewise departed. And while Burt was sure every news agency was aching for an exclusive, the knowledge that someone in the house had taken down four home invaders was apparently keeping reporters off of the front lawn.

So outwardly, everything seemed like it was fine. Burt had even woken up in a brief good mood. Then he remembered what had happened the night before, and the fact that things were very far from being okay.

Burt jumped when the phone rang, and he knew that Carole and Finn had, as well. He heard Finn bite off a curse; understandable as the phone had been ringing all day, and they'd flinched every time. Kurt didn't seem to notice it. He'd brought a book up to the kitchen as soon as the professional cleaners had cleared out and defiantly parked himself at the table. Burt worried; although Kurt was capable of ignoring anything and anyone if he wanted, there was something in the way he moved that seemed more like shock than determination. The phone, for example.

Burt checked the caller ID when no one else seemed willing to pick up. It was Mercedes, for the fifth time that morning. Burt wasn't sure if it was the normal Saturday 'Let's get to the mall' or if she'd heard about what happened. "Kurt, it's Mercedes on the phone." He hadn't picked up when she, or anyone else, had called but it was starting to get a little ridiculous. "You don't have to talk to her, but I think one of us should."

Kurt didn't look up from his book, and Burt had the disturbing sensation his son couldn't hear him any more than the phone. He waited until he was finished sighing before he picked up the phone. "Hello Mercedes."

"Mr. Hummel?" She sounded upset, clearly word had gotten around. "I saw what happened on TV this morning. Can I talk to Kurt? He's not answering his phone."

Burt realized that he hadn't heard Kurt's phone all morning, though no doubt his friends had all been calling to check in. Was it downstairs? Had it been damaged when- Burt cut off that line of thought quickly. It would do Kurt no good if HE fell apart. "I asked, but he doesn't want to." At least he hoped that's why Kurt hadn't answered.

"He doesn't want to talk to me?" Mercedes hurt was easily heard.

"He's got a lot to think about," Burt reminded her. Damn, he'd forgotten how fragile teen-agers could be. The last thing Kurt needed was to have a falling out with his best friend. "It's nothing personal."

"But Mr. H, Kurt's my boy. I can't just let him go through this by his self."

"Carole, Finn and I are with him. Just give him until Monday, and you can talk to him then" He wasn't sure Kurt would be up to going to school on Monday, and Finn wasn't likely to, either. But he'd at least try to get Kurt to see some of his Glee and Cheerios friends. Burt still wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing about this, but he knew it wasn't a good idea for Kurt to isolate himself.

Mercedes sighed, clearly not satisfied but knowing she'd get no better offer. "Sure. Tell Kurt I called. And that I really want to make sure he's okay with my own eyes."

"Goodbye Mercedes. Thanks for calling," Burt told her, trying not to scoff at the idea that Kurt was okay. As soon as she hung up, Burt went into the kitchen. "That was Mercedes," he announced unnecessarily. "She wanted to come by. I told her to wait until Monday, if that's okay."

Kurt didn't answer. Burt noticed that while Kurt APPEARED to be deeply engrossed in his book, his eyes were staring blankly at the page clearly not reading. Burt wasn't sure it was a good idea to touch Kurt when he was like this. So Burt leaned just close enough to tap the center of the page Kurt was looking at. "Kurt?"

That did it. Kurt came back to himself, focusing on his dad with a pensive look on his face. Finally, as if dragging the previous comment from his memory replied, "Mercedes, right. I don't know if I really want anyone staring at me yet."

"I hear that," Burt agreed. He didn't think he wanted to have the guys at the garage staring at him, either.

Kurt nodded and went back to his book. Burt watched the life go back out of his son's eyes for as long as he could stand, then retreated to the back yard.

* * *

Mercedes wasn't alone the last time she called Kurt's house. Rachel, Tina, Artie, and Quinn had all been trying without success to reach Kurt. And as they failed, hope drew them to the one person they thought Kurt might have been in touch with.

That he hadn't had quashed almost all of the hope they had left. "This is bad, people," Mercedes told them.

"We'd kind of already come to that conclusion," Artie reminded her.

"Let's try and break down what we do know. Did Mr. Hummel actually say Kurt was okay?" Rachel asked.

"How is he going to be okay?" Quinn countered acidly. "Four burglars go in. None come out. I doubt they just evaporated on their own."

"I can't believe Kurt could actually kill someone," Tina noted. "What do you think really happened?"

"Whoa. Let's get one thing straight," Mercedes told them. "I wanna make sure my boy's okay. If you're here to gawk at the train wreck, you can get your butts out of here."

Tina looked stricken, and Artie wheeled between her and Mercedes. Firmly, but calmly. "She didn't mean it like that, Mercedes. She's just confused. We all are."

Quinn put a comforting hand on Mercedes' shoulder. "He's right. I don't get how Kurt's even- I mean," she added, realizing from Mercedes horrified look that not knowing how Kurt was alive didn't need to be vocalized. Now, or ever. "I don't think I've ever seen him fight back against one guy, let alone four."

"Four is a big motivator," Artie guessed.

"Mr. Hummel wants us to leave things alone until Monday," Mercedes relayed.

"He can't seriously be expecting Kurt to come to school Monday," Rachel gasped. "Everyone- Jacob Ben Israel alone will be following him like a vulture."

"It'll be like that no matter when Kurt comes back," Artie pointed out. "You know how Kurt is. Not going would be like admitting it got to him."

"Kurt killed four people," Rachel reminded him. "How can it not have affected him? How do we even know how Kurt IS now?"

Silence. As much as they hated to agree with Rachel, they didn't know that.

* * *

There hadn't been anyone upstairs during the home invasion, but Carole had washed the sheets anyways. It proved to be an unexpected source of comfort and Burt was surprisingly grateful for it. "Carole, I-" Burt started awkwardly. He wasn't good at this, but it was important. "We've been concentrating on the kids today, but I wanted you to know…. I know that it's been hard on you too, and I really appreciate how great you've been through all this."

Carole blushed. "Burt, we're a family. What else am I going to do?"

"I know," he insisted. "But I'm really glad you're here. It's been really hard since Kurt's mom…. And I don't know how I'd get by without you."

Carole nodded. She looked thoughtful for a while before asking, "Burt, what happened to Kurt's mom? All I heard was that there was some kind of accident."

Burt had been expecting that she'd ask him about this eventually. He and Kurt had talked, and although there were some things Kurt was going to need to talk about when he was ready, Burt was ready to share this part of himself. "Honestly, I wish I could tell you. Kasha went home to visit her family. They were- well, I guess they still are- pretty big on their military, even though they haven't had to fight anyone in forever. She taught Kurt; guess it's clear now how good a job she did."

"What country did you say she was from?" Carole asked.

Burt grimaced. "Doesn't matter. Kurt and I haven't been back since I got the phone call from his grandmother. I couldn't believe how calm she was." He had to stand. As much as he wanted Carole to know this, it was bringing back memories. All of them bad. "She accused me of not respecting their traditions. I- well, I accused her of being a self absorbed ice bitch."

Carole giggled, despite everything. She immediately looked contrite. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he told her. "I've never claimed to be sophisticated. I really did try to make things better. After I figured out that she wasn't going to make the effort, I told Kurt I'd call and apologize."

"I can't believe she didn't call first," Carole gasped. "Kurt's her grandson."

"That's what Kurt said. He said that if she couldn't even invite us to Kasha's funeral, he wasn't about to go begging for her affection." Carole smiled again, this time affectionately. Burt smiled too. "Yeah, that was unbelievable coming out of an eight year old. The only time I laughed for about two years."

Carole got up and wrapped her arms around Burt. "Kurt is a really great kid."

"I know, a lot of people don't get that." Burt smiled at her. "And not just because of the gay thing. Kurt's family is really old, and kind of important. He doesn't like to think about it, but he's gets that aristocratic thing from them. The fact that you can see through that is one of the things I love about you the most."

"It's not hard." Carole put a gentle hand on Burt's face. "Thank you for telling me all that."

Burt looked embarrassed at that. "There's a lot of stuff I want to talk to you about. But Kurt, it's kind of hard for him. We've been talking about it, but with everything that happened-"

"No, it can wait. The way I look at it, we've all got enough on our plate right-"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Burt and Carole came barreling down the stairs at the sound of Kurt screaming, pausing only briefly in stunned horror when he suddenly stopped. When they finally got to the basement, they were relieved to see that the reason Kurt wasn't screaming was that Finn had woken him up and got him somewhat lucid again.

Kurt's shaken mind first latched onto the fact that his bed was soaking wet. He looked mortified until he tentatively sniffed the edge of his sheet. He laughed, the sound forced and too much after what had just happened. "It's not urine, thank gaga."

Carole had already gotten on the bed, heedless of what might be on it, and wrapped her arms around him. She didn't ask anything stupid like if he was okay, or if he was having a nightmare. "Were you sleeping, sweetie?"

Kurt had to think about that. "Yeah. It was just a bad dream." He smiled at her, that same forced cheer. "I haven't started randomly screaming when I'm awake."

Burt sat down on the bed, grim. He'd been expecting this. "Can you guys give me a couple of minutes alone with Kurt?" he asked.

"Of course." Carole kissed Kurt on the forehead and headed upstairs with a confused and clearly reluctant Finn.

"I'm sorry, dad." Again, Kurt couldn't look up.

"Kurt, it's okay," Burt insisted. "I'd be more worried if you weren't freaking out."

Kurt grabbed his pillow, giving it a couple of punches even as he held it tighter. "I hate feeling like this. But every time I start to feel okay I start thinking of those guys I-"

"Hey. Those guys were going to hurt you, Kurt," Burt reminded him. "You can't hate yourself for the rest of your life for stopping them."

"It's- I know."

"No, not I know. Tell me what 'it' is." Burt winced as he watched his son start slipping away again. "Would it help if you went to see someone? The police recommended a guy."

"I don't know."

"I don't know what else to do," Burt admitted. "I'd be happy to give that lullaby your mom used to sing to you a go. But even if I could remember how it went, I think we're past that point now."

Kurt nodded. "Well that's it then, isn't it?" Burt really wanted to say something else but Kurt shouted out, "Finn! Carole! You can come back in now!"

"Kurt…."

They came back in. But as unwilling as Finn was to leave, he seemed just as nervous about returning. "Hey, Kurt. You okay now?"

"I'm fine. Actually, I read somewhere that focusing on a particular image before bed provide a more restful sleep. This will be the last bad dream. Promise."

Burt and Carole weren't buying it. Finn looked like he wanted to, as much as he didn't. "What were you dreaming about?" Finn asked. It seemed like a stupid question until he added, "You were like, totally babbling about something. I couldn't make it out, except for the 'no'."

Kurt turned to Finn, confused. "I don't remember. Are you sure it wasn't French?"

Finn shrugged. "I don't know. What does French sound like?"

Kurt sighed, leaning back with both feigned and genuine fatigue. "Ask Rachel. I shouldn't have to civilize you single-handedly."

Carole chuckled, and Burt leaned down for a quick hug. "Leave it to my boy to have nightmares in French."

Because Burt could pretend things were normal just as well as his son could.


	3. Chapter 3

Wow, I don't think I've ever seen as many story alerts as I have this last week and a half. Thanks so much, I think that tells me as much as a review does. Not that I'm saying no to reviews, they've all been great. I feel really bad for Varda Elena's fingernails, though. There are answers in the next story, but this chapter just has more questions. And some lighter moments, surprisingly.

Chapter 3

It was really sad that Burt took it as a good sign when, at breakfast, the phone rang and Kurt just about jumped out of his skin. He jumped up from the dining room table (at Carole's suggestion, they weren't eating in the kitchen anymore) and his hand made an automatic half move to his back that Burt hadn't seen in… well, eight years. Burt was about to pull Kurt aside to ask him about it, but Carole had gone for the phone and looked down at the call display.

"Burt, it's the police," she told him as she picked up the receiver.

Burt put a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder, who'd already relaxed. Immediately and apparently completely. Burt wasn't sure what that meant, but after a short conversation, Carole was handing the phone off to him.

And then he had his hands full.

"Burt are you okay?" Finn asked, the second Burt hung up the phone. Burt had done his best to not let anything slip on his end of the conversation but he doubted that his expression left any of them unconcerned.

"Yeah, everything's fine," he declared, willing that to be true. "The police have closed the case, and they're sure that no one is going to be coming after Kurt."

"That's wonderful," Carole exclaimed, giving Burt a big hug. "So what's got you looking so shaken up?"

"I just wish they knew who the dealer was," Burt admitted. "Tox came back on them and they were all on meth. But they don't know where it came from, or where it went after the break-in."

Finn's jaw dropped. "If they don't know that, how do they know that Kurt's safe?" he asked, his voice quivering.

Kurt shook his head. It looked like the old Kurt, and Burt wasn't sure if he should be grateful or not. "Drug dealers lose their clients all the time. They aren't going to risk coming after me for revenge."

"Kurt's right," Burt insisted. "I just wish they'd caught whoever got those guys hooked in the first place. If they get someone else, somebody else's family could end up going through this."

"No," Kurt countered, his eyes dipping back out of contact with theirs. "No one else could have gone through that. I don't know if I should be grateful or not."

* * *

Mercedes couldn't believe it when Kurt and Finn showed up at school on Monday.

Everyone had heard about the break-in. Like with the news reporters, a lot of people were giving Kurt a wide berth. Especially the bullies; Azimio had been so freaked out when he saw Kurt that he'd ended up spilling his slushie all over himself. But people were staring. Enough that even Mercedes, who'd attached herself to Kurt's side the second he walked in, was feeling uncomfortable. Kurt was so calm that Mercedes was starting to wonder what was going on.

Kurt sure as hell wasn't talking. He made minimal contact with everyone, always taking immediate control of the conversation when he did. And making sure that no one had a chance to interject to ask such niceties as 'are you okay'.

Finn wasn't any better. The Gleeks had cornered him after a couple of Kurt evasions to question him on what had happened. He managed to get through 'he-' and 'they-' before he projectile vomited on the lot of them.

Which the Gleeks agreed was a bad sign. Puck had made an immediate edict forbidding anyone from questioning Finn again. And although they were all irritated by Puck's high handedness, none of them dared to try it.

The Gleeks hadn't been pushing too hard, but Mercedes was starting to get really worried about how normal Kurt was acting. Just about the time that Mercedes started picturing ultra-collected Kurt going home and blowing his brains out, she pulled him into the Janitor's closet.

"Mercedes?" Kurt frowned, puzzled. "This is so unexpected. And not really desirable. What's going on?"

"I was going to ask you that. Boy, don't think I can't tell when you're just barely holding it together. Talk to me."

Kurt winced. "'Cedes, I'm okay right now. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

"Kurt-"

"I'm not talking about this with you! Damn it, why can't you just drop this!" Kurt snapped. Mercedes looked very sad, and Kurt sighed again. This time apologetic. "I know you're trying to help. Why don't you come over after school? It'll double your chances of catching me falling apart," he added with faux-playfulness.

It was about as convincing as the week he tried to be butch. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I just want to talk you through this. But it's not about me, and I'm sorry."

Kurt relaxed (and how was it that Mercedes hadn't even noticed how tense he was?). "Well, if you don't want to come then…."

"Oh, you'd better believe that I'm coming."

* * *

By the end of the day, Tina and Rachel had invited themselves to go with Mercedes to Kurt's house to check up on him. Mercedes had flat out told them that she thought this was a bad idea, but they had looked so distressed she couldn't refuse.

Tina was now having second thoughts about coming. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Maybe Artie is right." Artie and the other guys had refused to, as Puck put it, 'get up in Hummel's grill' if he wasn't wanting to talk. Although they were as curious as anyone, the guys hung out, sang, and said ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about what had transpired over the weekend.

"The boys are just afraid that Kurt will start crying, and they'll be embarrassed," Rachel insisted. She'd been reading all weekend, and was apparently now certain as to how to handle things. "Not that we need their help. The last thing that Kurt needs is to be slapped on the back and told how 'bad-assed' he is."

"I think it's just bad-ass," Tina commented, though Rachel didn't seem to have heard it.

"I just hope Mr. Hummel let's us in," Mercedes worried. "Kurt invited one person, namely me, over today. He's not going to be too happy to see you guys."

"He's understandably worried about people coming to gawk," Rachel assured her. "Once we identify ourselves as Kurt's friends, I'm sure he'll let us in."

Mercedes wasn't convinced of that, particularly the part about Rachel being Kurt's friend. But Rachel was at least making an effort to be here, and Mercedes wasn't willing to start a big thing over what Rachel did every day.

They finally got to Kurt's front door, and Rachel both rang and announced her presence. The door opened, but it was Finn's mom. Standing in the doorway looking like she wasn't sure yet that she'd be letting them in. From the looks of her, she was cleaning; maybe that was their way in? "Hey, Mrs. Hudson," Mercedes said. "Can we talk to Kurt? He was really out of it in school today, and we wanted to make sure he was okay. Or we could give you a hand if he's not ready to see us yet."

Carole blushed as she stood aside to let them in. "No. No, you really don't need to," she exclaimed, talking way too fast. "I don't really need to. I just- I clean when I'm nervous. It's fine. I'll go see if Kurt wants any visitors."

They were originally going to wait in the living room while Mrs. Hudson talked to Kurt. But that was until Tina accidentally wandered too close to the kitchen. Although the kitchen looked the way it always had, Carole was there in a blink barring the way. "Maybe you'd better come with me."

Kurt was kneeling in front of his hope chest when Carole led them down the stairs. It was open, but as usual Mercedes couldn't see what was in it. She realized with a little surprise that she'd never seen the inside of it. But before she could consider that further, Carole called out his name and Kurt jumped, letting the lid fall shut with a loud bang.

Carole jumped too. "Sorry. It's just- You're friends are here, and they're worried."

Kurt looked up at them, the aristocratic detachment he wore today at school back on his face. "I'm fine. Mercedes," he added with a grim smile. "You managed to keep my suicide watch down to two other people. I'm impressed."

Mercedes felt like Kurt had just rammed a taser into her chest. "White boy, that's not very damn funny."

The detachment lapsed briefly, allowing them to see how awkward Kurt felt. "I know. Apparently the sense of humor is the first thing to go, after- You know, after." Kurt stood up, turning his back to them. "But then, I guess you don't know, do you."

"Can I get you guys anything?" Carole asked hopefully.

Kurt turned around, once again calm. The only sign that he wasn't his usual self was the almost painful-looking hug Kurt gave his near-stepmother. "I'll be okay for now. Thanks."

Carole nodded, lingering in the hug until Kurt let go. "You're friends can stay for supper if you want. But only if you're up to it."

"I'll let you know a little later, okay?"

"Sure thing."

* * *

Finn ended up eating at Puck's, so Kurt agreed that the girls could stay for supper. Burt was pleasantly surprised to hear how well the afternoon had gone. Kurt was a little shy around the girls, and a little subdued, but he was honestly enjoying their presence.

They were still eating in the dining room, though. There was such a thing as tempting fate too much.

"Kurt!" Rachel exclaimed. "I was meaning to ask you before where you got that amazing hope chest downstairs. It's just beautiful, and my dads are always on the look out for appropriate gifts for me."

Kurt stiffened at that. Carole looked over at Burt and mouthed, 'Grandma?'

Burt nodded. "'Fraid we can't help you, Rachel. I don't think the guy that made them is even alive anymore."

"Oh," Rachel simpered. "Was he a local artist? I've never seen anything like it before."

"No, he was a friend of-" Burt cut off his sentence with a worried glance at his son.

Kurt exhaled heavily, sounding tired. "You can say my grandmother's name, dad. After everything that happened, not speaking to her is the least of my problems."

Burt immediately stood up. "You kids should probably get going. I don't want your parents wondering where you are."

"Dad, it's okay." Kurt probably meant to sound assuring, but his voice was taut. Tense, and how long had he been sounding like that?

Burt realized that Kurt had been saying less and less since they got upstairs, and this was the first he'd spoken in about fifteen minutes. "That's great. But you've all got school tomorrow, and your friends need to get home before it gets too much later."

Things might have been okay then, but as the girls headed for the front door, it opened and Finn came in with Puck. They both looked surprised to see everyone there. "Hey," Finn said as he moved over to Rachel. "I didn't know you were going to be here."

"She's just leaving," Kurt's informed him.

"Already?"

"It's getting late, Finn," Carole reminded him.

Finn made an almost successful attempt at not looking at Kurt when she said that. He nodded. "Oh, sure. Why don't I give you a ride home?"

"That would be lovely."

"You're a whipped dog, Finn," Kurt breezed. His voice was playful, but his face was a mask. Burt moved to hurry the teens out, but Kurt was faster. Walking back to the kitchen with his plate and cutlery. "I'll be cleaning up, if anyone succumbs to another bout of 'let's smother Kurt'."

The significance of that statement didn't hit Burt right away, in his hurry to give Kurt some peace and quiet. "Puck, would you mind giving Mercedes and Tina a ride home?"

"No prob, Mr. Hummel. I don't want to overstay my welcome. Kurt might pulverize me." Puck was teasing, but the rest of them were in no mood.

"Good god, Puck," Mercedes growled. "I can't believe you actually-" Mercedes was cut of by a loud crash in the other room.

And Burt remembered. Oh fuck, the kitchen.

Burt went barreling into the kitchen, Carole, Finn, and the rest of the kids (including Puck, surprisingly) right behind. Kurt was standing in front of the open dishwasher, just staring at it. His plate shattered on the ground under his seemingly nerveless hands.

"Kurt. Kurt, it's okay baby." The fact that Kurt didn't immediately bristle at being called a baby was either from his not realizing his friends were right there, or that he was beyond that right now.

It turned out to be the latter.

"Kurt?" Finn was around in front of him, the dishwasher door between them. "Kurt, you're freaking us out, dude. Say something."

"What's going on?" Rachel asked.

"That's-" Carole swallowed hard. "That's where it happened."

Mercedes ran to Kurt, horrified. Burt was about to warn her not to touch him. That he was having a flashback and might not know her enough to not attack her. But it was too late.

She spun him around. "Kurt, talk to me!"

But Kurt just stood there, eyes staring blankly.

That was a lot worse than Burt was expecting.

(to be continued)

Sorry about the cliffhanger, especially given that we're going to get more than enough Kurt angst on Tuesday. But this chapter was running long on story, and I still haven't finished writing that lullaby Burt mentioned in the last chapter. Hopefully I can post the next chapter soon.


	4. Chapter 4

I thought I'd better not drag this out too long, as we've all had enough Hummel angst this week. Thanks for your continuing reviews and story alerts.

Varda Elena, I feel I should make one more comment on your review: Kurt isn't German. I'm one of the writers that had Kurt's parents mash their names together to get his name. Which means we should all be glad Kurt's dad isn't named Sam, or Kurt's name might be Kum.

Square brackets [ ] indicate dialogue translated into English.

Part Four

The night it happened, Kurt had made a break for the basement.

He'd realized the moment that the three of them had burst through the front door that he was in trouble. They were tossing stuff into garbage bags; the expensive stuff, but it could be replaced. But it was lazy, only things that happened to be in arms reach. They were all looking at him.

It was the first time anyone wanted him, and he didn't appreciate it at all.

He jumped off the couch, making a wreck of the living room tossing end tables and ottomans in their path. That slowed them, and he ran for his room hoping that once he was armed he'd be able to scare them off.

Unfortunately, a fourth guy came through the back door, presumably to block off any escape. Decent thinking on their part (or rather planning, since none of them seemed capable of coherent thought right now), but the guy was also standing between Kurt and the basement stairs.

Damnit.

Kurt kicked the guy in the face. Hard. The guy didn't even wince. "He's bendy. They'll pay more for that, right?"

Fuck.

Kurt realized, a split second before it would have been too late, that the three behind him were almost on top of him. He went low and dove for the kitchen. If he couldn't make it to his hope chest, this was a close second. The knife block-

Was empty.

Where the hell were the knives?

Finn. Finn had cleaned up last night. And despite insistent reminders that it was bad for the handles, Finn always put them in the dishwasher.

One of them grabbed him by his collar. Kurt grabbed the knife block and slammed it against the guy's hand, which went limp. It stayed like that only for a second, but Kurt was able to pull free.

If one of them gets a solid hold on me, I've had it.

Kurt made a break for the dishwasher. He flung it open and pulled out the longest two knives he saw. Kurt crossed them in front of his chest, making damn sure they saw them. "Stay back!"

"…Kurt…."

They were still coming. I don't know what to do.

"[Keep your tips up. Pull back on the sharp edge]"

I can't.

"Stay back! Stay the fuck back!"

"Kurt!"

* * *

Burt had put himself in front of Kurt. Gently shaking the boy now that it seemed he wasn't going to accidentally kill them all. Kurt was clearly reliving the night of the attack, but from somewhere else as this still, quiet body didn't seem to have anyone in it.

"Kurt! KURT!" Mercedes seemed to be as panicked as Kurt was (wherever Kurt was). The only reason she wasn't there, shaking him a lot harder than Burt was, was that Puck had pulled her half into his arms. Comforting her maybe, Burt sure as hell didn't have the attention for it.

"Kurt. Come on, baby." Burt's eyes were filled with tears. God damn it, how could someone do this to his kid. "It's over, kiddo. It's Monday. Don't you remember? You went to school, and now you're home." Fuck, maybe that wouldn't help. "You're with me. You're safe."

"[Mommy?]" Kurt's face still looked like an empty Halloween mask, but there was a voice there. And where there was a voice….

"No. Kurt, it's me," Burt begged. "Listen to me. You're with me. You're safe. Come on, baby. We need you to come back. Come back to today, okay?"

"[…today…]" And just like that he was back. Kurt's eyes focused on his father's. Confused. "Dad?"

"Yeah. That's me." Burt held his son as tightly as he dared. Mercedes had buried her head in Puck's chest and was sobbing.

Kurt pulled back. He must have realized what had just happened because he looked rattled. He made a half glance back towards the dishwasher. Burt was just about to stop him, but Kurt didn't freeze up again.

He ran. The door to the basement slammed so hard it was likely to have popped back open.

* * *

As Carole herded the kids out of the house (though it was likely to require a bulldozer, especially for Finn and Mercedes), Burt went downstairs to find Kurt at his vanity, already dressed for bed, frantically scrubbing his face with one of his more vicious looking scrub pads. "Hey. Buddy, you're gonna wear the finish off," Burt told him, worried.

Kurt threw the scrub pad onto his vanity. "This is so stupid," he sniffled.

"Kurt, it's only been a couple of days," Burt reminded him. "I know you don't want to hear this, but there are going to be days where everything goes to hell, just like after we lost your mom."

"I'm not going to get any better."

Burt hugged Kurt again. "Of course you are. Forget about the last couple of minutes. The rest of the day went okay, didn't it?"

Kurt shuddered. "No. No, it didn't." He pulled back again, this time moving to sit on his hope chest. "I- The only reason I was okay- I brought it to school with me."

Burt nodded. "I kind of figured that at breakfast. It was- Well, it was kind of like seeing your mom again."

Kurt looked up, surprised. "I- I didn't think about that. All I could think the entire time I had it on was that I was literally dressed to kill. Kill again."

"Yeah, I think that's something we get that we can't quite get you to believe," Burt stated quietly. "You're the only one who thinks you're some kind of monster."

"Dad, I'm a killer."

Burt winced. "Kurt, no-"

"Yes I am," Kurt insisted. "That what they trained me to be. Even mom. I hate it! I don't want to be like that. But it's the only time I feel in control. When I don't have a weapon, in my hand or tucked in my waistband, I-" He broke off, gesturing in the general direction of the kitchen.

Burt had to think about that. "I know this is really freaking you out. But Kurt, I really think we've got to deal with what just happened before we have the luxury to figure out who you are."

Kurt's jaw dropped, thunderstruck. It made Burt feel like a complete jerk, but before he could apologize Kurt said, "I guess that makes sense. Do you- Do you want me to see that psychiatrist? I guess if I'm just focusing on the break-in that'd be okay. I have too many secrets to talk about anything else."

Kurt agreeing to get help should have made Burt's day. But the way Kurt said it made Burt feel old and worn down. "I know how important it is for you to be honest about who you are. I wish you didn't have to keep so many secrets."

"Finn and Carole… if this hadn't happened…" Kurt sighed and shook his head. "I think I'm going to go to sleep now."

"You're not finishing your face thing?" Burt asked. And really, that scared him as much as anything else that Kurt had done tonight.

Kurt smiled sadly, trying to soothe his father's fears. "I'd rather spend an extra hour tomorrow morning on it than try to stay awake much longer."

"Sure thing," Burt told him, though Burt still didn't feel better. "You know, your school doesn't have metal detectors yet, and since I know you're not going to butcher your classmates, even if you don't-"

"Dad," Kurt interrupted with an aggravated sigh.

"I'm serious. Maybe, for the next little while, what they don't know won't hurt them."

Kurt was too surprised to reply with anything else but a cartoon blink. Burt started back up the stairs. He was mumbling something, and he'd barely gotten to the bottom landing when he stopped, thinking. "Is something wrong, dad."

Burt turned around, and to Kurt's surprise he was smiling. "No. Get into bed, [little pogol]. I think I actually remember how that damn lullaby went."

Kurt raised a surprised eyebrow, but did as he was asked. Burt sat by Kurt's pillow and sang. Burt's voice wasn't quite as powerful as Kurt's or Kasha's, but it was solid like he was. Burt just hoped he didn't have to switch back to English and ruin what was a really pretty little song.

[I met a little water pogol

Singing song and yodel-odol

Pulling deep his roe and older

Till he can meet the sun again.

[I glimpsed a little starry-o

Dancing round the sunny oh

Wishing for a hidey-ho

To rest away from sun again.

[I burrowed in my burrow neatly

Dreaming dream of moss and algae

Hoping you will wake so sweetly

When you face the sun again.]

Kurt slept soundly. And unlike his promise on Saturday, this time Kurt's rest was peaceful. Until he could face the sun again.

* * *

Okay, this is really the end now. I think I want to do something with the Glee kids, but this story has been about Kurt and Burt, so I think anything else should be it's own story.

The new story is coming along pretty well. There's a genre change, I hope I don't lose all of this story's fans with it.


End file.
